Raising Havoc
by Raising Havoc
Summary: A series of one shots/drabbles dedicated to exploring parenthood with a lesser known couple. [Havoc/Catalina - Bumped to a T rating for mentions of death in later chapters]
1. Mr Mom

**Mr. Mom**

"Aww, come on, Bex, I was just teasing you." Jean rolled behind his wife, noting her angry posture, her quiet facade, and the way her hip was poking off to one side. She was being sassy and he hated that. Usually when she got like this, he pissed her off royally. "Hey, I won't smoke around the baby, does that make the situation better? I'll go outside or something."

"You were supposed to go outside from the start!" She sighed and pushed a hand through her hair. "Jean, I swear, some days I don't know how you lived this long."

He gave her his usual smirk. "Dumb luck and a deal with the devil? Come on, I can watch my daughter. It'll be fine. You go to your meeting and Vanessa will be fine, I promise. I wouldn't _actually_ give the baby a cigarette, I was just playing." He folded his arms across the arms of his chair, shaking his head. "If you really don't trust me, take her with you. But I'm a little upset that my _own wife_ doesn't trust me enough to watch my _own daughter_. I mean, she's a baby, what's the worst she can do?"

"You really think my job is that easy?" Becky huffed, folding her arms and poking her hip out to the other side. She was starting to get that Latina fire he found so sexy, but not in this case. This was pure rage. "Let's see how well you do babysitting her for the day. You tell me how easy it is when I get home tomorrow."

"Woah, really? A whole day of uninterrupted time with Vanessa? This is a first. You've never let me have that much time with her alone." Mostly because she was afraid of exactly what they had discussed moments prior. That and she was obviously jealous that the baby loved him more. "Deal. We'll call you tonight and let you know how it goes."

Grabbing her uniform jacket off of the chair at the kitchen table, she smirked over at her husband. "Right, Jean. We'll see. I will tell you this much – she lives up to her name."

"I bet she does." He smirked and watched as his wife left, suddenly realizing in that moment that he had been paying no attention to the baby and didn't even know where she'd wandered off to. "Nessa?"

Somewhere off in the annals of the house, he heard a sharp _adda_ , which prompted him to wander in that direction. Sitting on her butt in the middle of the hall was the dark haired blue eyed wonder, thumb stuck in her mouth for good measure to complete the innocent look. He smiled a bit and hoisted the infant into his arms. She was well over the age of _infancy_ , but for some reason he always saw her as a baby. Despite her being two and already toddling along – at a quicker rate than he was – he still called her his baby. "Adda!"

He nuzzled his scratchy beard against her cheek and smiled, holding her against his shoulder. "Come on, Kiddo. I bet you want to go outside. Mama says you like to play with the pup." He whistled for the dog to follow, the large beast scampering down the hall and skidding to a halt next to him. Becky had trained it since infancy to recognize any changes in his behavior, so in a way it was a support animal for him and the baby. "Go, Fang."

The pup barked and ran off through the doggy door in the kitchen and waited impatiently outside. "Should I make you lunch first, Nessa? Mama said you might be hungry."

She held up her tiny hands and opened and closed her chubby palms. "Nutter belly!"

"Yes, yes," He chuckled softly and kissed her hair. "I'll make you a nutter belly sandwich."

Vanessa laughed as he brought her into the kitchen. He couldn't help it; that sound was music to his ears. It was the best thing he had ever heard and he loved making her laugh every chance he got. Keeping the toddler balanced precariously in his lap, he moved to the counter to get everything down. It was moments like this he was glad that Becky lived in a one-floor house. A few modifications made it home for him. He could stand now, but walking was still an issue. Grabbing the bread and incidentals to make the sandwich, he set them on the counter and looked to his daughter. "How do you like your nutter belly sandwich? More nutter than belly?"

"Lots of nutter!" She giggled and put her hands onto the counter, watching him. "Nutter nutter nutter!"

"Yes, all the nutter," He laughed opening up the jar for her. He'd learned quickly to use spoons around her, ever since the one time she got hold of a knife while they were cooking, he'd been terrified ever since. "You like a lot of nutter, so tell me when to put on the belly."

She tapped her index finger to her lip and watched while he methodically made the sandwich, then tapped his hand. "Adda, no belly."

Jean gave a shocked gasp as he looked down to his daughter. "No belly? Blasphemy! That's your mother's work. How can someone have a nutter belly sandwich without the belly?" He kissed her head and folded the slice of bread, handing it down to her. "There you go. One nutter sandwich for the biggest nut of them all."

"Adda, play." She muttered, taking a bite of the sandwich. She was pointing out the window at the dog.

He frowned at her, kissing her head. "After I clean up, princess." He set her on the floor and sighed. He hated letting her go. "It'll be a few minutes, you wait here."

For a while, the child listened. She tapped on the floor, banged on the doors of the cabinets, and even tried to pick up a spider with her fingers. But then she grew bored. And what do children do when they get bored? They look for adventure. She rolled onto her belly and started to crawl through the doggy door outside.

Focused on the task at hand, he didn't even notice that Vanessa was gone until he heard Fang barking up a storm. The dog was trained to protect him, and by extension, protect her. He turned when he noticed she wasn't in the kitchen anymore, his heart racing a million miles an hour. It was only a few seconds! Unlocking the wheels, he looked around, calling her name, when he caught a glimpse of her outside. "Vanessa?" Little else registered in his mind except for the fact that his precious baby girl was getting into trouble.

He raced over to the door and looked out at her. She'd already started down the sidewalk towards the street, but Fang was doing his best to keep her in place. He was running circles around the child, hoping to slow her down or stop her, but she wasn't listening.

For a while, Jean sat there, the sniper in him taking in the surroundings. Vanessa was in trouble and he kicked himself into a different gear. Locking the wheels on his chair, he raced down the driveway to quickly grab her from going into traffic, pulling her back and holding her so tight he thought he'd suffocate her. His heart was pounding in his ears, the fear evident in his trembling voice. "Vanessa Anne Havoc! Don't you _ever_ scare Adda like that _again_ , do you hear me?"

The child looked up at him with wide blue eyes, an awestruck wonder on her features. At first he thought she was going to cry, but she laughed wildly and pointed behind him. "Adda, did it!"

Jean looked up for a moment, his azure eyes confused by her words. What in the—when he turned to where she was pointing, he noticed it. He'd run a good 200 feet to grab her from going into traffic. And that was the motivator he needed. Maybe he _could_ walk again, with the right triggers. Nuzzling her hair again, he softly kissed her head. "Vanessa, please don't ever do that to daddy again. I mean it. You scared me. I thought I was going to lose you."

Vanessa placed her chubby hands on his cheeks and kissed his nose. "Adda walked."

"Adda ran," He corrected, taking her hands in his and lowering them from his face. "I mean it, Vanessa. Never again."

The toddler nodded and looked up at him, this time her eyes wide with sadness. "Adda mad?"

"Adda is very mad. You could have gotten seriously injured. You could–" He was quiet for a moment, swallowing down the painful emotions that followed with the train wreck of possibilities. "You could have ended up like me."

"Adda." She climbed out of his lap and moved next to him, holding out her hands, palms down. Her feet were planted firm. It took him a moment to realize that it was Becky's stance. That's how she would help him up. "Come on, sugar!"

"Sugar?" Had Becky _ever_ called him that? Then it dawned on him that she was saying _soldier_ , which was an expression Becky used fairly frequently. "Yes Ma'am." He climbed to his feet rather unsteadily, using the guard rail to help himself back to his chair. He unlocked the wheels and moved back to where Nessa was sitting on the sidewalk. "Vanessa, daddy loves you."

"Adda me?"

"Yeah, you." He smiled a little and brought her up into his lap again, holding her close to his pounding chest. Just knowing she was okay was the comfort he needed.

When Becky came home that night there were crayon marks all over the walls, peanut butter and jelly smeared on the cabinets, blocks balanced precariously on the other side of the door, and her husband sleeping in the middle of the large living room with his daughter under his arm protectively. She moved to retrieve the toddler, taking her to her bedroom. Then she came back and sat down on the floor, poking her husband's nose. "So how did it go?"

"I ran today."

She smiled. "I told you she would keep you on your toes."

He shook his head and sat up, tugging his wife down into his lap for a kiss. "No, Becky. I _ran_ today. I chased after her, like you told me to. For the first time in three and a half years – I ran. And it felt good."

"I'm so proud of you." Becky kissed his lips as a reward, laying her head against his shoulder. "I'm assuming that meant she did to you what she did to me."

"What did she do to you?" Jean asked hesitantly.

Becky laughed and closed her eyes a moment. "She tried to go for a swim in the bathtub alone. I told you, she lives up to her name."

"No kidding," He rubbed the back of his neck. "Remember when you joked about how you could teach us to both walk at the same time? I know it sounds weird, but I think she did that for you. It's like she knew that's what you were trying to do all those times. Becky, call me crazy, but Vanessa was _proud of me_ when I was done, and she tried to help me up using your motivators."

"You're crazy and delusional. Let's get you to bed before your medication affects the rest of your functionality." She stood up, planted her feet, bent her body, and held out her hands to help him. "Come on, Soldier."

He couldn't help but snicker. Like mother like daughter.


	2. Night Terrors

**Night Terrors**

"Adda!"

"You _just_ put her to bed," Jean complained, nuzzling his head into his wife's shoulder. He sighed softly, trying to think of all the reasons why his daughter would be screaming his name. The last time it was because she _thought_ she lost her blanket, but it was under her the whole time. The second time was because she was thirsty, and she had a glass of water already. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rolled onto his back. "You want me to get this one?"

" _Adda!_ "

This time there was a shriek to her voice that Becky took note of. She sat up rather quickly and brushed her hair behind her ears. She'd spent more time with the child, so she knew her fears. "I got this one."

He couldn't help but notice how _wide awake_ his wife looked. It must have been the time at war, because he never saw her jump out of bed so quickly. She was already off and down the hall before he could protest, sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms folded, a huff escaping his lips. He could _barely_ make out what they were saying through the paper thin walls.

 _"No, princess, daddy has to sleep, he has appointments in the morning. Mommy can help you, what do you need?"  
_

 _"Adda."  
_

He snickered sarcastically from his spot on the bed. This was a nightly thing. He'd be busy, she'd want him, Becky would have to track him down. Every single night. Clearly Vanessa was a daddy's girl, but Becky refused to admit that her own daughter loved him more than she did. Before his wife could utter a curse word – as she usually would at inappropriate times – he slipped into his chair and wandered down the hall to his daughter's room.

"Adda!"

"Yeah," He replied tiredly, waiting in the doorway. "What do you need, Nessa?" Removing her thumb from her mouth, she poked it over towards the door in the back corner. He noticed that it was slightly ajar and emitting a light from outside. He sighed and went over to his daughter, running a hand over her head. "It's okay, Nessa. I'll go check for monsters."

Becky barely noticed how swift he was when he stood up from the chair and held onto the wall. Part of her remembered that expression, the stoic one, as if he was fighting off the world. She hadn't seen it in years, but he still remained ever vigilant, checking each crevice and spot where a monster could feasibly fit. She smiled a bit, watching him shift into full soldier, before he thumped back down, closed the door, and went back over to the two of them. "Anything?"

"I'm happy to report there are no monsters," He responded running a hand through his hair. "Nessa, I get the feeling that's still not enough."

The little girl whimpered and took her thumb out of her mouth, poking it down.

Under the bed? He hadn't thought of that one. It should have crossed his mind considering where Lust was hiding when she made him like this. He grumbled and dropped down onto his stomach, peering into the darkness. "I can't see down here."

Becky offered to turn on the light, prompting Vanessa to scream. "No! They hide!"

Offering her pen light from her pocket to him, he went back to work. Shifting objects and rolling things to the side, he couldn't help but comment on the messy bomb that seemed to have detonated under her bed. He'd worry about her cleaning her room later. For now, he was worried about monsters and he didn't see any. Wiggling back out from under the bed, he handed Becky her light back. "All clear."

Somehow, the idea still didn't satisfy the child's determination that there was a monster in her room. He couldn't help it; he understood all too clearly how she felt. Even he got scared in the dark sometimes. It was easy to do. She pushed out her lower lip and started whimpering.

"No, Nessa, no. Don't do that." He reached out his arms for Becky to help him up into his chair. Once that was done, he tugged his daughter into his lap. "Nessa, come on, don't cry. Please don't do that. You know I hate it when you do that."

Becky held up her hand to say something and then lowered it quickly, digging through one of her daughter's drawers for an object. It was a small hair tie with bells on it. She wrapped it a few times around the handle of the door and looked over at Jean. He seemed perplexed by what she was doing so she demonstrated. "If there's anything in here," She opened the door to ring the bells. "It will definitely make noise."

"Good idea, Becky! See, that's why you're the thinker of the group." He rested his chin on Vanessa's head and watched his wife move methodically through the room, searching for anywhere else a monster could hide. "What about under the bed?"

"I was getting to that." This time she left the room and retrieved a spray bottle of water, handing it to him. He twisted it in his hand to read the words _Monster Be Gone_ on the side of it. "Now if anything shows up and scares her, she can use that. It'll get rid of anything. I used to use it as a kid."

He grinned that usual dopey grin and looked down at Vanessa, explaining how it works. "If you see a monster, just grab this and spray it, and poof! Monsters are terrified of this stuff, it's like acid to them."

"Ama!" She held out her tiny hands and groped the air. Becky complied and took the child up into her arms. "Ama chu."

"You're welcome, princess. Daddy's scared of the dark, too, so we have to be extra careful sometimes." Becky didn't address his pathetic whimper; he sounded like he was kicked in the shin. "But if you want to know a secret, daddy's the bravest of all of us. He's actually tussled with the monsters in the dark."

"No! They die?" Vanessa inquired, looking to her father with wide eyes.

He nodded, looking to his wife, glad she didn't get into details. "They did. It used to be my job, to fight off the monsters. Every night I'd check. Now you can sleep sound, okay? If you ever get scared of the monsters, you call me. I'll be here as quick as I can."

"Chu!"

"You're welcome, Nessa. Now will you go to sleep?" He loved his daughter, but he was quite tired from being startled awake. "Please? For daddy? I'll show you how to hunt them in the morning."

"Deal!" Nessa wiggled from her mother's arms, wandering over to her father and tapping his knee. When he bent down to ask what she needed, she kissed his cheek. "Chu Adda."

He gave a half grin as she climbed back into bed. "Goodnight, Nessa."

Back in their bedroom, nestled back where he belonged, he kissed his wife's neck gently. "You just had to tell her."

Becky reached out a hand to lay against his shoulder, smiling a bit to herself. "She needs to understand that even the bravest people in the world have weaknesses. She sees you as this big, tough, macho guy, and she needs to know that you have your weaknesses, too. The sooner she understands that, the quicker she can realize that it's okay to be afraid of the dark." She turned in his arms, kissing his cheek. "And besides, you're the hero of this story, not me. Why are you complaining?"

"I—kind of hoped I wouldn't have to tell her how I ended up like this."

She sighed and touched a hand to his cheek, kissing his lips. "Jean…you're a hero."

"Then why don't I feel like one? I can barely even do half the things she wants her to do. She asked me to dance the other night."

Becky smiled and kissed him again. "You'll get there. We'll work on it. I promise. But she sees you as nothing but normal. She's never known you any other way, so to her – this is _her_ daddy. He might be a little special, but he's _hers_ and she loves him. That's the thing about kids. Their affection is unconditional."

He wrapped his arms tighter around her body and closed his eyes, resting his chin against her head. "God, how did I ever get so lucky to find you."

Using his own expression against him, she closed her eyes. "Dumb luck and a deal with the devil."

"Ain't that the truth."

 **Idea used with permission from Majin Videl.**


	3. Broken

**Broken**

Vanessa was sitting on the front porch blowing bubbles, watching as Fang tried to catch them in his teeth. The dog was normally calm and quiet, but sometimes he was still a puppy. She would stop every so often, dip the wand into the solution, and pull it back out to make sloppy bubbles. Becky had made the soap for her by hand, insisting that her way was the _better way_ , since she grew up making them. She was toddling along, blowing bubbles as she moved. Sometimes, Becky felt that she walked better backwards than she did forwards.

The dog was running in circles around her, protectively trying to catch her in case if she fell. Though Becky had a keen eye on her, she knew her daughter well enough to know that the dog wouldn't stop her. The little girl was still blowing bubbles, twirling around on the grass, when she tripped and fell head first into the sidewalk.

In an instant, Becky was on her feet, running towards her daughter. That same instant, she heard _Ama_ over and over again followed by a sharp shriek. "Vanessa!" She scooped the child up into her arms, checking for marks or bruises. Her hands were careful as she scanned her daughter's bare legs. A scrape on her knee, but so far nothing monumental. She then gingerly moved her hair to the side and checked her head. Nothing there. "You're okay, Nessa."

Jean appeared on the porch, looking out at the sound of Vanessa crying, hands resting in his lap, though fidgeting since he couldn't do anything about her crying. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, nothing's broken. Thankfully she has a hard head, like her daddy." Becky shot a grin over at her husband and rocked her daughter gently. "Nessa, it's okay, honey. You're fine."

He'd grown used to her falling and taking tumbles. She should have been a gymnast with all the times she tripped on her shoes. But Becky assured him that it was normal for kids to fall. It was especially normal for toddlers to tumble; it was all part of learning how to walk. The same applied to him, and he smiled a bit at the fondness of it all. "Vanessa, do you hurt?"

"Broke, Adda."

He paused, looking to Becky. "Broke? What's broken?"

Becky checked her daughter over again, her body blocking his view. She froze, her body rigid. "Jean."

Was that a waver in her voice? Was Becky on the verge of tears? He blinked again, rolling down the porch to her. "What's wrong?"

"Smile for daddy," Becky demanded, looking to the small child.

Vanessa gave a wide, toothy grin. Except something was missing. One of her teeth. "Broke."

"No, princess, it's not broken." Becky laughed gently, patting her head. "Your teeth are meant to fall out. They'll be replaced by big, strong, adult teeth. Like Ama and Adda. See?" She smiled to demonstrate her point. "You're not broken." Squeezing her gently, she turned to see her husband fighting back tears. "You're growing up way too fast, but you sure aren't broken. You're perfect."


	4. Butterfly

**Butterfly**

"So I was thinking of the name Kyle if it's a boy, and Carla if it's a girl," Kain muttered over his second glass of beer. The gang had reunited for a night, to celebrate the fact that Kain was having his first child. No one had done that for anyone else, but since Kain was the last of the group to marry, it was kind of a big deal to him. "I think it's fitting, you know?" Kain immediately turned to Jean. "So since you're the only one here with a kid, how did you come up with your daughter's name? Was it luck of the draw? Random naming conventions?"

He was quiet for a long moment. His posture shifted a bit, leaning back in the bench, one arm draped over the back precariously, his feet crossed. His hand rested against his glass, tapping against it with his wedding ring. In his mind, he was thinking back to when Rebecca first told him, that moment of elation and fear that hit him. He didn't even think of names then. "Rebecca suggested Calvin. I liked it for a boy, but then I asked her if it was a girl. I remember that we didn't exactly know until closer to her due date. And, fair warning, women are rarely ever due on their due date."

"That didn't answer my question," Kain replied, noting that the others were off either refilling their glasses or playing pool. "I mean, Vanessa is a lovely name. Which of you picked it out?"

"I did," He shifted now, leaning on his elbows against the table. "I remember the first time I ever met Becky's mom. She used to tell me that Becky was her little butterfly; beautiful and fragile, but capable of such magnitudes of destruction...according to the mythos. Anyway, I thought that was fitting for her, but I couldn't very well name my daughter _butterfly_ , it'd be weird." He smiled gently and leaned back again. "So I named her Vanessa."

Kain raised a brow, still confused. "What do butterflies have to do with the name Vanessa?"

"Vanessa translates to _butterfly_ in Ishvalan." He smirked, proud of himself. Mostly because Becky loved the name and never bothered to ask what it meant. "She's also the goddess of brotherhoods and unions. I mean, it made perfect sense to me. That way she's got a little bit of Becky and a little bit of me. Her middle name, Anne, means _favor from God_. Considering my...situation, it seemed like the cosmos thanking me." He shrugged and downed the shot of Whiskey. "I'm just saying. It doesn't have to make sense, but it's better if it does."

"Thanks...I'll keep that in mind. It's kind of ironic that her middle name is Anne, and your name means _Gift from God_." The younger man leaned back, folding his arms on the table. "But I see what you mean. I wonder what Sheska would think of the name _Abigail_ for a girl..."

"You have nine whole months to think about it. Why don't you guys come up with something that means something to you?" He tapped his glass again, smiling to his comrade. "Just a suggestion. I think I might go watch General Mustang get his ass handed to him at pool. You think on that for a while."


	5. Cuss Jar

**Cuss Jar**

"Ama!"

 _Damnit, she caught me._ Rebecca paused washing the dishes to turn to her child, smiling as angelically as she could. "Yes, Vanessa?"

"I heard!"

 _Shit._ "You heard what?" Just a few seconds prior to the altercation, Rebecca had dropped a knife into the sudsy water and cut herself trying to find it, which elicited a curse from her lips. This prompted Vanessa to toddle over with a jar and wiggle it. On the side of it, in Jean's sloppy scrawl, was the words _Cuss Jar_. "You're hearing things."

"Am not! Pay!" She wiggled the jar again, change bouncing around loudly inside of it.

The idea was to get Becky to cut down on her cursing around the kid, but it hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. The promise was that once she had enough money, she could do whatever she wanted with it. Assuming they taught her how to use money by then. With the rate Becky was going, she'd have a thousand dollars by the end of the day. She grumbled something about beating him with the jar as she slipped a few quarters into it. "You're getting annoying with that thing, kid."

"You know if you would stop cursing all the time, she wouldn't have to do that." Jean grumbled, closing the fridge door behind him. "I'm just saying, it's not attractive anymore."

"Oh, for God sake. Shut the hell up, Jean. You talk too much sometimes." And there was that irritating sound again. "Fuck."

"That's two," He snickered, watching Nessa walk over with the jar. Just for good measure, she wiggled it again until Becky relented and stuck a five dollar bill in it. "Man, she got you hard that time."

"You know, you're not so innocent yourself," Becky huffed, leaning against the counter. "I've heard you say your fair share of curses. Especially when one of us is hurt."

"The difference is I don't say it _loud enough_ that she can _hear me_." He corrected, pouring a glass of milk for the toddler. "And besides, I'm a saint. I'm sure you've heard of saint Jean."

Becky turned back around, narrowing her eyes as she went back to her task of doing the dishes. "Bite me."

"Careful, I might just do it." He moved over to put the milk back and looked over his shoulder at Vanessa. "What are you saving up for anyway? Did you ever decide?"

"Shin." She answered matter of fact, dropping the plastic jar onto the table. "I go."

"The hell you will. You can't go alone." Realizing what he'd said, he looked up as his wife started laughing hysterically. " _Damnit_!"

Becky leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Pay up."


	6. Self Doubt

**Self Doubt**

February 23rd...a date he could never forget. How could he? It was quite possibly the most turbulent time of his entire life – and that included surviving being stabbed. Only four hours ago he was told that he'd be a father _a lot_ sooner than expected. While he wanted to imagine maybe it was a mistake, there was no mistaking the fact that they brought his wife through those doors crying. He moved quickly to her side, taking her hand in his own, biting down on his lip.

The poor man was sure that he was in the wrong place. He loved his wife to death, the idea that he could have put her through such misery was almost painful. He felt every single wince, every movement, and every time she yelled. He hated that for her.

Still, unsure of everything and ready to give up, he heard his wife speaking to him. Her voice was quiet and breathless from everything going on, but she managed to break through the other sounds in the hospital room. "She'll love you no matter what."

He nodded, laying his head against her hand. "I know, I'm just...scared, it's a lot to handle, you know? I want to be a good daddy to her, and I can't even walk."

"You will." She smiled and kissed his hand. "I'll teach you both."

"Is that before or after work?" He was only partially sarcastic with his reply. He knew how bad this must be for her, but she was tough and refused to give him the upper hand. she'd always been stubborn. And while she tried to play it off like she wasn't in pain, he knew better than to believe her. "Becky, I love you. So, so much."

"I know," She whispered, closing her eyes tightly to the oncoming wave of pain that overtook her. A few moments later, she was back to looking at him with those dark brown eyes, full of all the love in the world. "Just make sure you share it. I know how much you hate the idea."

"I just..." He sighed and lowered his head. "...I want to be perfect. I can't do much else right now, so that's the one thing I shouldn't get wrong, right? But I don't know what to feed her. I don't know when or how long. I don't know how long naps should be. Should I let her cry herself to sleep or no? Should I worry if she's quiet? Becky, I just don't know."

Becky reached out and lay a hand on his cheek gently, tugging him down to kiss his lips. "We'll be together on that one. I promise, you won't ever have to worry about it. You'll be a great daddy," She whispered, trying to remember to breathe. "Besides, it's hard to mess up a baby."

"You say that, but if anyone could pull it off, it's me." He sighed, hand tightly holding hers. "I'm scared, Becky. I'm terrified of messing up. I don't think I can do this."

"It's a little late to back out now, don't you think?" She frowned and lay her head against his arm. "Don't you bail on me now. I need you. _We_ need you. Just...think of all things your daddy did for you. You admired him, so surely he did something right."

"Yeah, I guess so." He kissed her head and pushed some of her hair behind her ears. "You'll be a great mother. You did a great job with our furbaby."

"That..." She groaned and tried to re-position herself, to no avail. "That hardly counts as practice."

He moved a little closer and closed his eyes, laying his head against hers. "Becky. We'll do this together, right? You promise me?"

She nodded and smiled to him, though her smile was sheepish. He could tell her will was fading. The thought of everything was starting to overwhelm him. Before he could say anything to her, he could hear the nurses telling him he had to leave. He didn't want to, but he knew he was only in the way.

He was still sitting quietly in the waiting room when the nurse came to retrieve him. "Is she-"

"Mother and child are fine," she replied, smiling to him. "Would you like to meet her?"

He looked up, startled. "Her?"

"Yes, your daughter." The nurse held open the door for him. "Come, she's eager."

He wheeled himself into the room, half expecting to find Becky asleep, but instead she was sitting up, her knuckle just barely grazing the head poking out of the soft pink blanket. The image was one he'd never forget, despite feeling like his heart shattered into a million pieces. Here was this perfect, wonderful, beautiful little girl – and he didn't know the first thing about taking care of her. He brought himself next to the bed and smiled to his wife. "She's..."

"...beautiful. Do you want to hold her?"

He paused, hesitation in his voice, uncertainty in his motions. "I—won't hurt her?"

"Jean, hold her like this," Becky demonstrated how to hold her and smiled. "Keep her against your chest, you won't have to worry. And she likes the sound of your heartbeat. She also really likes the sound of your voice. It's comforting."

"How do you already know that?" He questioned, holding his arms out for her to place the infant into them. She was so tiny compared to him, almost as if she was a doll. The child was so still and quiet, he almost worried for a moment that she was dead. His azure eyes had tears in them as he looked down at his daughter. "She's perfect."

"She's her daddy's daughter." Becky smiled weakly. "She has your eyes. But she's like me, too. She sleeps when you talk to her. She loves your voice."

"Do you really think I can do this, Becky? I mean...I thought being a soldier was hard but this-"

She leaned over and kissed him mid sentence. "You'll be fine. You're my hero, so now you can be hers, too."

And just like that, all the fears and doubts washed away. They ebbed in the distance, just barely nagging him. He kissed his daughter's head and smiled to his wife. "Thank you, Becky."


	7. Bare Feet

**Bare Feet**

He'd taken Vanessa to visit Gracia; a weekly thing now since she loved playing with Elysia. Despite the age difference, they got along wonderfully. Vanessa was sitting in his lap, tugging on his hair, laughing as he tried not to grimace each time she pulled. He only barely noticed the thunder rumbling in the distance. He didn't bring a jacket for Vanessa; something Becky would surely kill him over later. At least she'd have a real reason to be angry for once. He tried to shield the child from the rain, but it wasn't working. "Nessa, are you cold?"

The child shook her head and looked up at the sky. "Adda."

"Yeah, it's raining. Ama would kill me if she knew I had you out here in this weather." He sheepishly smiled at his child, kissing her hair. "I'll get you home. I don't want you getting sick."

"Adda, no." When he stopped to see what she was on about, the child wiggled free of him and sat at his feet for a moment. She then pushed forward and stood up, holding her hands out. Her little palms opened and closed, enjoying the feeling of the rain. "Nice."

"Yeah, it is kind of nice, isn't it? Not so hot anymore." He smiled to his daughter. "You like the rain?"

She nodded and took her sandals off, finding the first puddle she could, stomping down in it. "Adda like?"

"Adda loves the rain," He watched her, not even caring that she was now barefoot and covered in mud. He didn't care that she would probably get sick. She was enjoying herself and he loved that. Her squeals of laughter kept him vigilant. "Like father, like daughter, I suppose."

"Adda. Play."

He shook his head, only to have her tug him forward until he came out of the chair, thumping onto the ground. "Nessa."

"Play. Adda likes rain. Play!"

"Maybe next time, kiddo. Come on. We have to go home. At least then you can play outside the house."

Several hours later, he was sitting on the porch with her curled up in his lap under a pink blanket. The two of them had fallen asleep listening to the rain, and he didn't even care that she was soaked to the gills. She was happy, and he was happy because she was.


	8. Heroes

**Heroes**

The sun was shining and Becky wasted no opportunity finding a use for her dogs. While Fang was playing with Vanessa and keeping her company, she had her husband in the yard hanging the laundry. It was a good opportunity for him to stretch his leg muscles without falling, and she was nearby if anything changed. He still wavered sometimes, but she never let him hit the ground if she was close by. She yawned lazily and brought out the last basket of clothing belonging to the youngest of the family. "Hey, good looking. Come here often?"

"You know it," He remarked, smacking her bottom as she walked by. "Damn, Becky, is it hot out here or is it just you?"

"That line didn't work the first six times and it won't work now." She turned her back to him and started to pin up Nessa's clothes a little further down the line. She smiled over the line at her daughter. "She's growing up so damn fast."

"It's scary. One minute she can barely walk, now she's running marathons. I dread the day she's old enough to date." He shivered and turned to Becky. "She's so tiny still. Is that normal?"

"She's _three_ , Jean, not _thirty_." She answered, moving over to gently push him back down into his chair. Seeing the child occupied with the dog, she leaned down to kiss him quite passionately on the lips. "I want another."

"How does it feel to want?" He grinned.

She wanted to smack that grin right off his face. She hated when he did that when she was feeling this way. "Fine," she huffed and turned on her heel back to the porch. "But you get to suffer, Jean. Because soon enough, Nessa's going to be old enough to forget how cool you are."

He gave an expression that reminded her of a wounded dog. "She'd never..." As if on cue, Nessa tugged on his hand in the chair. "Yes, Nessa?"

"Adda hurt?"

He blinked a few times, trying to get the look of betrayal off his face. Looking down at his little girl he shook his head. "Adda's fine."

The little girl persisted, tugging on his hand again. "Adda, hurt." This time she said it with a little more authority, climbing onto his lap. When he hoisted her up, she lay her tiny little hands on the scars on his chest. How did he forget about those? This must have been the first time she'd ever seen him without a shirt. "See?"

"They're old," He nuzzled her hair. "I promise, I'm fine. Sometimes it aches, but it doesn't hurt anymore. It's a good ache."

"How?"

He froze. He'd never wanted to explain it to a toddler. How could he? The story itself was painful in it's own right, but now to tell it to his baby? His hands tensed on her back. "Nessa, I don't think you're old enough y-"

"How?" She inquired again.

He looked down, hair falling in his eyes. "Nessa..."

"Daddy's a hero," Becky finally said from the porch, putting out a pitcher and a few glasses. "Come up here, Ama will tell you."

"Becky, I don't think-"

"It's fine, Jean. I can handle it." Patting her lap, the child obediently ran over and climbed up. "See, a long time ago, daddy was a soldier like mommy."

"Long?"

"Like, two whole days ago." Becky laughed at her daughter's surprised gasp. "Daddy's job was to protect the princess. See, he's like the knights in your books. Instead of running _away_ from danger, he ran _towards_ it. And he never ever, ever, second guessed it. Well one night, he was in the dark, and it was really hard to see. He was trying his best to keep the princess protected. See, she was scared of the dark." Becky embellished a bit and changed some of the names and ideas around so it would make sense in her daughter's world. "Well, out of nowhere, someone stabbed daddy with a sword."

Those wide blue eyes that focused on his was heartbreaking. He gasped for air. "Becky...stop."

"Daddy made it, though. You know he didn't die, because he's sitting right there. But, daddy had to stop being a knight...at least for a little while." She smiled a bit, kissing Nessa's nose.

He was already up on the porch, moving passed her. "It's been six years, Becky. I can't go back. If there was any hope, it's already passed. Please stop getting her hopes up." He responded bitterly before moving back into the house. He didn't move, he sat on the other side of the door with his head hung in shame. Now she knew...and he was terrified of how she'd think of him. _The day you stop being cool..._

"Adda..." Nessa dropped off of her mother's lap and ran to open the screen door, fighting with it for a few moments before successfully opening it. She ran around front of him and held out her hands. "Adda, pony."

"What, Nessa?" He hadn't meant to sound so mean. Especially not with her. That was a tone meant for Becky and Roy. "Sorry, baby...it's just...a hard memory."

"Adda, wook." She held out her hands, touching his on the arms of his chair. "Adda."

Becky stood on the other side of the door, watching her daughter gesture in a fit of rage because he wasn't understanding her. She smiled a bit. "She's trying to tell you that you're still a knight, you just have a different kind of pony now."

Vanessa nodded wildly, black curls bouncing as she did so. "Adda pony!"

He couldn't help it. The smile that crossed his lips was so wide he thought his cheeks would fall off. He'd always be her knight, wouldn't he? "Thanks, Vanessa...daddy needed that."


	9. Diva

Diva

 _Silence is golden...unless you have a toddler. Then it's suspicious._

Vanessa Mae Havoc was probably one of the most well-behaved children in her entire grade. She obviously got her father's lax temperament and her mother's sassy attitude. It wasn't shocking to find her quietly playing with her dolls in her room or romping through the garden and plucking out all of her mother's ripe tomatoes to eat them before she noticed. The latter often causing Becky to wonder if she was perhaps growing the plants wrong that they weren't producing any fruit.

The child, at the ripe age of three, had the most calming personality anyone could ever ask for. She was quiet, shy, and intelligent. But she rarely showed any of those traits unless necessary. Tragically, she also obtained her father's worrisome side, which was likely directly attributed to the fact that he spent the most time with her since he couldn't work. That side of her was soothing, and often sparked controversy in parenting styles.

Still, Jean never could help his incessant need to check on his daughter constantly. If she wasn't nearby, he'd often go in a search looking for her, if not to confirm she was doing exactly what he thought she was doing. Vanessa was so much like him, that he actually knew where she was before even looking for her. She only had five places she would hide; her closet, under her bed, her tree house, the box in the garage, and the garden. It narrowed down the search significantly, and didn't require him calling in an all-team search party when she went missing.

It was nearing lunchtime and he noticed that Vanessa wasn't in one of her usual locations. This elicited a spark of fear in him, one he hadn't felt since she was younger and thought playing in traffic was a good idea. Where had she gotten off to? He wandered down the halls, hobbling along on his cane, searching for any signs of the toddler. Sadly, her quiet nature often played into his worst fears. Most kids you could pinpoint by the giggling, but Nessa was so quiet, he had to rely on his old senses to find her. "Vanessa?"

There was a very faint giggling coming from the bedroom, prompting him to hobble down that way. Stopping outside the door to their bedroom, he poked the door open and stared at the mess that Vanessa had made. "What on earth-?"

The little girl turned around and held up her arms with pride. There was a dark shade of red lipstick smeared across the vanity and on her lips, dark purple eye shadow on her eyes, and blue nail polish all over her hands. He let out a relieved sigh that she wasn't doing anything truly dangerous, but part of him was concerned that Becky would find this mess and surely kill him later. She'd given up most of her makeup after Vanessa was born, opting instead to keep only a few of her favored colors and types for date nights with him. Even with how messy his daughter looked, he couldn't shake the feeling that she looked almost identical to her mother. "Adda!"

"Mama's gonna kill me." He murmured, falling onto the bench seat beside her, holding a hand up to smudge away some of the lipstick on her cheek. "You did a great job making a mess."

"I do good." She laughed and took out the lipstick, which was pushed all the way to the max, and tried in vain to smudge it onto his lips. "Adda, come."

"I'd rather not, Vanessa." He sighed softly and grabbed a tissue, wiping the mess off of the vanity mirror. "You look very pretty, but this is all mama's stuff. What did mama tell you about staying out of her dressers?"

The little girl looked down, suddenly realizing he was lecturing her. Not angry, per se, but still _upset_. "I sorry."

"I know you are." After tackling the task of removing the smudged lipstick off of the mirror, he took a wet cloth and tackled her face. "You know, before you were born, I learned how to do most of this for your mother. She couldn't hold her hand steady some days, so I would do this for her. She insisted on looking pretty, even though she was still the prettiest person in the room. And I painted her nails a lot, too, since she couldn't see her toes anymore." He chuckled and finished wiping the makeup off of her cheeks and hands. "How about I do it for you?"

"Ehh!" Her eyes lit up with confusion, hearing his proposition. She handed over the handful of objects and smiled brightly. "Kay!"

Pulling the lipstick out, he memorized the name and number so he could replace it later, since most of it had been lost on the vanity. "No lipstick and no eyeshadow." Digging through the makeup bag, he procured a bottle of natural looking lip gloss and a shade of pink nail polish for her. "How about that?"

Taking the bottle of nail polish into her hands, she held it up triumphantly with a smile. "Ink!"

"Yep." Gently taking it from her hands, he smiled and gathered the rest of Becky's makeup into the bag, zipping it up, and putting it back in the drawer. The lipstick, which was her favorite shade to wear and his favorite shade to find on his collar, would have to be replaced later. She'd probably yell at him, but he didn't care. "Lay your hands flat, kiddo."

Vanessa did as she was told and flattened her hands on the vanity. He'd never been an expert at this, and Becky always had to fix his mistakes, but he laid a towel down so he didn't make a huge mess. He used another towel to remove the old blue polish, laughing at the way she squirmed. "Tickles."

"A little bit, yeah. Mama used to paint my nails. I know it's silly, but she taught me how to do all these pretty colors and how to combine them to get purple and green, and I think part of me wanted to be able to do this for you." He smiled a lopsided grin and took one of her hands onto his knee, where he started to carefully brush the polish over her nails. "Pink is a lovely color for you."

That was where Becky found them an hour later when she came home from work. Vanessa was sleeping in the large master bed, her nails painted almost perfectly in a bright shade of pink, lipgloss smeared all over the sheets and pillows. Her husband was hunched over the vanity with the tube of lipstick, staring at it like it was the devil. "Don't tell me you plan on wearing that…"

Startled, he dropped it onto the vanity and turned to face his wife. "No. I was planning on replacing it, though."

"I don't think that's your shade anyway," Becky smiled, her hand resting on her hip. "I take it Vanessa kept you on your feet today?" Staring at the gloss all over the pillow, she tried to smile. "That's also not _her_ shade."

"I never expected her to be into makeup so early. I hoped she would wait a while. At least I didn't find her in here in your dresses and shoes." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You know, she looks like a tinier version of you. That's startling."

"Then why in God's name did you pick _that_ color for her? You know what shades look good on me." She sat next to him on the bench and started the unholy task of wiping the nail polish off his fingers with acetone. Clearly he'd let Vanessa try her hand at it, or else it wouldn't be there. "You know, even with neon green fingernails, you still look handsome."

He shook his head and smiled. "Vanessa found your makeup bag. Aren't you upset?"

"Not really, I figured she would eventually. At least you had enough sense to show her how to wear it right. I assume the vanity didn't have such a graceful experience with it, though." She took her tube of lipstick and stared at the flatness of it with a defeated sigh. "They don't make this shade anymore."

"I'm sorry." He lowered his head in defeat. "I should have watched her better."

Becky shook her head and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "You did fine. I'll just have to let her pick out the next color I wear all the time. You didn't do too badly. No broken bones this time, no frantic calls about her playing in traffic...all in all, this was a pretty good day for you."

He beamed now, staring at his wife with bright blue eyes. "Does that mean I get a kiss?"

"Hush, you get a kiss anyway," She leaned over and pressed her lips to his, only barely noticing the waxy feeling of her own lip gloss on his lips and the familiar taste of cherries. "Jean..."


	10. The Ick

**The Ick**

"Bex," The voice belonged to her husband, one she had grown used to hearing in the mornings. He was often up before her, but today was different. It was around six thirty, well beyond the time she'd be getting ready for work. He leaned in onto the bed and reached a hand under her cheek. "Becky. You slept through your alarm. You're going to be late."

"I'm not going." She groaned into her pillow, moving away from his hand. She sounded like a moody teenager, sparking a chuckle out of him. "Don't laugh at me. I have the ick."

" _The ick_?" He questioned, reaching over her to check her temperature. "You _are_ running a fever."

"It's not fair, it's like you're _never sick_." She finally groaned, rolling over onto her back to glare at the man that was now staring confused at her. Those blue eyes; _ugh!_ "Never!"

"I've been sick maybe once or twice...in a lifetime." He smirked and moved away when she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Should I call in for you?"

"No, I'll take care of it." She reached over for the phone and started to dial the number. "Go get Vanessa ready, she'll be getting up in about twenty minutes."

After she finished her phone call she noticed a giggling down the hall, followed by the very soft footsteps of her young daughter. The echo of Jean's stern words followed behind her. Vanessa gave a very quiet _okay_ before tapping on the door to the bedroom. "Ama!" Without waiting for an answer, she pushed the door open and waddled in with the tray. On the tray was burnt toast, a bowl of cereal without milk, a cup of water, and some pills.

Becky knew for a fact that the pills were Jean's doing, the rest must have been solely Vanessa. "Thanks baby, did you do this?"

She nodded triumphantly and climbed up into the bed. "Adda helped."

"And you did a great job," She tried to smile thinking about how unappetizing all of it even looked. Just the notion of food made her stomach churn. She wouldn't tell Vanessa that she was thankful that her daughter didn't put milk on there. Taking the pills, she took a sip of the water and smiled. "Shouldn't you be going to bother daddy?"

"Huh uh. Adda working."

What _did_ he do all day when she wasn't home? She'd always wondered, but today wasn't the day to find out. Before she could even ask Vanessa the question, she was on her feet running. So much for the painkillers he'd given her.

"Ama?" Vanessa slipped off of the bed and followed her mother into the bathroom, peering over her hunched shoulders. "Ama okay?"

"No, Ama is not okay."

Nessa sighed and gently took her mother's hair into her hands, holding it back for her, as she would have done for her many times before. "Ama, get adda?"

Becky stopped, wiped off her lip, and sat propped against the wall. "Yeah. Go get daddy."

"Adda!" The sharp whine of the child echoed through the halls, bouncing off the walls and landing on her sensitive ears. " _Adda_!" At least she had the decency to step _out_ of the small bathroom before yelling.

"Vanessa, mama has a headache, why are you yelling?" He muttered, looking to his daughter with a stern glare.

"Ama sick."

"I know, we went over this this morning. Why do you think she's in-" He paused, looking over to the bed. "-bed." Seeing Vanessa pointing towards the bathroom door, he sighed, wheeling over and nudging the door open. "Bex?"

"Hey, come here often?" She was still propped up in the corner miserably, her hand resting against her stomach. "I think I have a little more than _the ick_."

He froze, listening to her speak. He knew what that expression meant. That was the same look she gave him when she told him about Vanessa. He reached out to take her hand, rubbing his over hers. "Are you sure?"

"Jean, I think I know morning sickness when it hits me, I did kind of have it the whole time I was pregnant with Vanessa." She bit her lip, trying not to sound so harsh. "Sorry, baby. I just-"

"I know," He leaned down to kiss her forehead, bringing her into his lap. "We'll get you looked at first, before we come to that conclusion. It may still just be _the ick_. And if it's not, we have a lot of explaining to do with Vanessa."

"Yeah we do." She sighed, resting her head against his shoulder, her legs hanging over the arm of the chair. "Thanks, babe. I know you'll always take care of me."

"You know it," He whispered softly, knowing her head must be aching. "Do you want a bath? I can help you."

"Maybe later," She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Right now I want to rest. If t _he ick_ turns out to be more than just _the ick_ , I have to think of a good story to tell Vanessa."

"We'll work on that when the time comes. For now, take a nap and I'll check on you in a few minutes." He chuckled seeing Vanessa sitting in the bed chewing on the toast like a chipmunk. "And I'll get the rodent out of here so you can sleep."

"Nah, she can stay. It's been a while since we've had a cuddle session." She crawled into the bed, moving the tray to the bedside table, and tackling her daughter into the pillows. "I bet Nessa wouldn't mind a mommy daughter cuddle session anyway, would she? No food in the bed, Vanessa."

Nessa blinked and tossed the toast back onto the tray with a smile that she clearly inherited from her father's genes. "Ama! Ama better?"

"Ama's better." She whispered, tugging her daughter into a hug. "Adda's going to make an appointment for ama. Hopefully she'll be better sooner. And then we can cuddle more."

Jean smiled, watching the two from the doorway. Deep down, though, he hoped that his wife wasn't right about her suspicion. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ another child, but he wasn't so sure she could _handle_ another child as well as himself in this condition.

* * *

Written for my sister, Missy. I know a lot of people have pointed out that Becky is always mysteriously absent in these stories. That's because she works while Jean takes care of Vanessa. In this timeline, he still isn't healed, so it worked better that way. Becky _is_ there, just not in the chapters posted so far. So now you get a Becky-centric chapter. And the next one might be, too. I'm not sure yet.


	11. Stranger Danger

"I'm just saying, Becky, she runs faster than a cheetah on speed." The blonde looked over his shoulder to see Vanessa still sleeping on the couch, just to make sure she was there. He was leaning against the wall, one arm bracing him in place, the other hooked in the telephone receiver while he talked to his wife. "And one of these days, I'm going to be able to actually _keep up with her_. Then she won't know what to do."

"Jean," There it was. That patented _mother_ sigh. She'd learned it with him and only dragged it over into her parenting years. "She fell one time, that doesn't mean she's clumsy. If she fell every day I'd worry. Did you at least clean up the wound?"

"Nah, I let it get infected. She's got maggots and shit in it now," He smirked and chuckled. "I'm kidding, Becky. Come on, what kind of parent do you think I am? I've been doing this for three years now, I think I can handle pretty much anything."

"Yeah, you say that now. Wait until she starts dating. Then suddenly you can't handle _anything_." Becky snickered a moment, putting a hand over the line to muffle the conversation at the office. She could barely make out him tapping irritated against the wall. "Sorry, they asked if I filed my reports yet. How lazy do they think I am?"

"About as lazy as you think _I_ am?" His gaze landed on the couch again where he noticed Vanessa wasn't there. "Hold on, Nessa's on the move. Where'd she go?"

Crawling across the floor with a camouflage blanket over her shoulders, Vanessa was oozing her way into the kitchen like a slug. She inched along, satisfied that he was playing along with her ability to hide. Her muffled giggles carried from under the blanket.

"Becky, I don't mean to alarm you, but I think Vanessa has turned invisible. It's the weirdest thing. One minute she was sitting there, the next she vanished." He moved from the wall to tap the oozing blanket on the floor with his bare foot, shaking his head. "And we have a beautiful camouflage rug now. Well, looks like we can give away all of Vanessa's toys. I don't think she's coming back...hope she has a good life wherever she vanished off to."

"Hm," Becky seemed unimpressed. "Wasn't her birthday coming up soon?"

"That's right, her birthday is in a month. Oh well, we can donate all of her toys. She won't need them." He sniffled a bit and pretended to be sad. "I'll miss my baby. I won't have anyone to entertain me while you're at work now. Goodbye, wrench hander-er."

"Daddy!" Vanessa shouted, sitting up and throwing the blanket to the side. She squealed and moved quickly to cling to his leg, her arms wrapping tightly around him. "Don't give away my dolls! I'll stay and be your wrench person! I promise!"

He pretended to sniffle again, just before a mock excitement crossed his features. "Vanessa! Where did you come from!? I thought you ran away!" He put the phone between his cheek and shoulder, then reached down and snagged Vanessa into his arms, nuzzling her cheek with his beard. "She came home, Becky, call off the search. She's alive."

"I wanna talk to mama." Nessa demanded, her hands reaching out for the phone. "Let me talk to mama."

"Let me talk to mama _please_." He corrected, offering the phone to her. "Be nice and don't yell, mama's got a headache."

"Yeah, and it's named Jean." Becky commented sarcastically.

Vanessa blinked a few times and looked to her father, both locking blue eyes for a long time. "Who is Jean?" Vanessa inquired finally, her voice tiny now. "Is that the frog outside?"

"I'm Jean." The blonde remarked, pointing at his chest. "And you're Vanessa, and that's Becky."

"No. That's a phone, and you're daddy." The little girl rationed, blinking in confusion. "You _are_ Daddy, right?"

"Well, I mean, the last time I checked…" He blinked, tilting his head to the side in confusion. "But my name is Jean. And Mama's name is Becky. Nana and Papap don't call me _daddy_ , you know."

Vanessa gasped, her blue eyes suddenly very wide. He knew that look, she was about to cry. "But who are you!? I don't even _know you_ anymore!"

"I-" Snagging the phone from Vanessa, he set his daughter down and watched her run off into the other room in tears. "I'll call you back. Looks like we've got a crisis. Love you, babe." After hanging up, he ran after Vanessa, finding her hiding in the closet. A trait she invariably picked up from her mother. "Vanessa Mae...come out here and talk to me please. That closet is way too small for both of us."

 _"No."_

No? Did his daughter just tell him _no_? He huffed and sat back on his knees, thinking. "Fine, I'll leave you alone." Cookies! Vanessa had a weakness for cookies. Sure, Becky would kill him for it later, but it would lure her out of hiding. He was only gone for a few minutes, but when he came back, Vanessa wasn't in the closet. _Shit_. Hearing the slamming screen door he was on his feet and chasing after her. "Vanessa!" _Becky's going to kill me_.

The child found the first person on the street that would listen, hastily telling them that she didn't know the man following her and she wanted her daddy. She was in tears, really selling the story. He found her like this, the woman looking at him with a horrified expression. "That's the guy!" Vanessa screamed.

"I swear on everything that's holy, I'm grounding you until next summer." He huffed, his palms against his knees to catch his breath. "Stop. Running. Away."

"That's not my daddy, that's Jean!" Vanessa screamed, now clinging to the strange woman's legs.

He growled something under his breath and stood up tall now. "Yeah, Jean. Jean Havoc. Your father. Come home, please, before your mother kills me."

The woman knelt down beside her and smiled gently. "What's your name, princess?"

Vanessa looked up with wide azure eyes, looking to her father. "Vanessa Mae Havoc."

"So he's your daddy," The woman commented, ruffling Vanessa's hair. "Mommies and daddies have names. Their parents give them their names, just like your parents gave you the name Vanessa. Then their kids give them a new name. You didn't think your mother called him Daddy while they were dating, did you?"

The child squirmed now, backing away from both of the adults, her hands tugging at the hem of her shirt. "You're one of them! You're all aliens!"

"Honey-"

Jean sighed and knelt down behind her, wrapping his arms around her small body to hold her close. "Listen to me, Vanessa Mae. You know how mama's in the military and she's a Lieutenant?"

"Yeah…"

"And you know how everyone _calls_ her Lieutenant?"

Vanessa nodded. "Uh huh. Oh...so it's a rank? Like mama's?"

The woman wandered off while they spoke, while he tried to rationalize in his daughter's small mind what was happening. "More of a title. Your name isn't Princess, but we call you that because you are to us. Just like Nana's name isn't Nana, but we call her that so you can pronounce it easier. Do you understand now?"

The little girl nodded again and turned into his arms, burying her head against his chest. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Don't _ever_ do that again, Vanessa. Do you understand me? Someone will _believe_ you and I'll go to prison. I'll never see you again. Is that what you want?"

She shook her head no, wiping her tears away. "I don't want you to leave."

Brushing her hair back, he kissed her forehead and hoisted her up into his arms. "Come on. Let's go home before mama calls in the cavalry to find us." He snickered at the idea, holding his child close. The story he'd have to tell her mother would be priceless. And they'd have a _long_ talk about strangers and awareness. Maybe they taught her _too well_ about strangers. "Hey, Vanessa?" The little girl looked at him with those same blue eyes, so much like his own. "I love you, baby girl. Even if you try to kill me every other day."

"I love you too, Daddy. And I'm sorry."


	12. Tool Timer

"Wrench."

The small child reached down into the toolbox and dug around for the tool in question. She rummaged around for a few moments before finding it, slapping it into the hand that was reaching from under the car.

"Socket."

That one was a little more complicated. She had no idea what a socket was. Digging around, she looked for something that seemed 'socket' like. Finding another wrench, she handed it to him.

"Not quite, kiddo. It looks a little like a cup but it's open on both ends. Like...a tiny shot glass for a doll." _Bad example._

"I can't find it," Nessa complained.

"The big one," The voice assured. "Looks like a stop sign and has a 1 and an 8 on it."

It took her a moment to find it, digging through all of the tools before producing the item in question and giving it to him. She smiled triumphantly, only to notice him slide back out from under the car. He studied the object for a few moments before digging through the box for the right one. "It wasn't right?"

"Close, but not the right size." He took the box up and set it on the workbench, looking to Vanessa. "Come here, princess."

She moved over and climbed up into the stool, looking at the red metal box. It was one of his toys and she knew not to mess with it. Pretty much everything in the garage was off limits. If it wasn't dangerous, it was because it was one of his toys. He was busy laying out all of the tools on the table, when she finally asked him a question. "Daddy, do you love your truck more than mama?"

He froze for a moment, his hand lingering over the toolbox. Glancing down at his wedding band, her gave a gentle smile. "Well, honestly, both could keep me warm at night. And they get me where I need to go. But I think mama wins, because she gives me kisses."

"Eww." Vanessa looked down at the tools, poking her finger at one of the silver objects. "Kisses are gross."

"Good, keep thinking that. It's a healthy attitude to have." He smirked and lined up all the sockets, then turned to his daughter with a smile. "I won't confuse you too much. As you get older, I'm sure you'll be helping more. But these are the different kinds of tools I'll be needing today."

She picked up one of the sockets and looked at the number, blinking. "Oh. I got the wrong one."

He ruffled her hair, smearing grease all over her forehead. "It's okay. You tried. You're only four, I don't expect you to be a mathematician by now. This is a wrench, this is a socket wrench, these are screwdrivers."

"But that's confusing, this one is flat and this one is a star." She grumbled, picking up the screwdrivers and observing them.

"Right," He murmured, leaning over her shoulder, his arm barely missing her head. "The star is a phillip's head. I don't know why it's called that, I just know it is. We'll call it the star." He chuckled and kissed her head quickly. "Ready to get back to surgery?"

Vanessa hopped off of the stool and nodded. "I got this, daddy, I promise. I won't let you down!"

"Good, I'm counting on you." He slipped back under the car and went back to work. After a few seconds, he sighed, slipped back out, and smiled at Vanessa. "This is going to be longer than I thought."

"What do you need?"

He smiled at her and shook his head. "I need that really confusing sharp looking object that you're so afraid of."

"A flat screwdriver?" She held it up triumphantly, but he shook his head, blonde locks falling into his eyes. "Not a flat screwdriver…" She muttered looking dejected.

"No, baby girl, but thanks anyway." Rifling through the drawers, he pulled out a small red object and looked at Vanessa. "A Swiss army knife." Sometimes, to get a job done, it really _was_ that simple.


	13. Bon Nuit

"Jean," Becky rolled over onto her side and traced her hand gently over her husband's chest. It was the middle of July and it was hotter than hell outside. He'd opted to sleep without a shirt, in a pair of shorts. Becky was in a tee shirt and underwear. She sighed and tried to wake him up again. "Jean." He still wasn't budging. She huffed and moved a little closer, leaning on her elbow. Leaning in, she stole a kiss from his lips. With little hesitation, he moved in for another kiss, when she pulled away.

"Well, good morning to you, too." He grumbled, clearly irritated that she didn't kiss him back the second time. He sighed and turned, groggy and tired, to stare at her. "You rang, my Queen?"

"I've been thinking,"

"And that's why you woke me up at-" He looked at the clock on the bedside table, squinting to read the numbers. "Four in the morning?"

"Yes, it's been on my mind a lot lately."

He sighed exasperated and thudded back into the pillows. "Can it wait until morning?" A lingering pause. " _Later_ morning. Like...ten or something?"

"No." She moved now so her torso was resting on his chest, her hand gently moving under his cheek to turn his head into a kiss. "Now, will you listen if I promise kisses?"

"I'll listen to you read a dictionary if you promise kisses," He groaned and lay on his back, letting her rest against his chest. It was difficult to stay awake, but with that perfect pair on his chest, how could he decline her offer of kisses? "What's been on your mind?"

"Well, I was thinking the other night...it's been a while, and Vanessa's birthday is coming up next month."

"And _this_ has been keeping you awake." He ran a palm over his face, shaking his head. He knew it was a trap to let her do this to him. Especially when he had work in an hour. "Rebecca, I love you. I love you to death. I love you so much I am willing to let you talk my ear off in the morning. Please just let me sleep. We can plan Vanessa's party later."

"This isn't about a party, you dummy. Leave it to you to take all the romanticism out of something I say!" She leaned down now, pressing her ear to his chest. He could feel how warm her cheeks were. "I want another baby."

He stayed silent for a moment, his hands snaking around her torso to pull her in closer. "Even after losing one already?"

"I don't care. I don't care if we lose fifty more. I want another baby. I don't want Vanessa growing up alone like we did. She doesn't deserve that."

He turned her cheek so he could kiss her lips gently, resting his forehead against hers. "I don't think you could physically handle losing fifty more. I'm not even sure you could emotionally handle losing one more. But I also know that when you want something you do everything in your power to get it. So I'm not going to say no."

She gently kissed his lips back and smiled. "Good. I'm glad you said yes."

"You're glad I said yes?" He blinked a few times, his sky blue eyes watching her with a confused expression. "What if I had said no?"

"You can't. You're not allowed. As my husband, you're morally obligated to agree to everything I say. And like you said, I'd do it anyway." She smiled this time and moved back into her resting spot, laying on her side, curled into his body. Her head was against his chest, nestled for comfort. He was starting to fall asleep again, so she leaned in close to his ear and whispered; _you're going to be a daddy again_.

Although he smiled in his sleep, she wasn't sure he heard her. She'd have to tell him again later, when he was awake. Closing her eyes, she smiled and kissed his chest. It'd be better to tell him when he could be excited anyway. Maybe after Vanessa's birthday she could let him know finally.


	14. Lucy

**{TRIGGER WARNING: MISCARRIAGE}**

He remembered. It wasn't a moment he could easily forget, not after everything they had been through. Now, as he sat in their bedroom, listening to his sick wife, the memories came flooding back in a hurry. He remembered that night, sitting with her as she cried about how the heavens hated her. He listened to her yelling that she had done something wrong, that it was all her fault. But he never forgot the immense amount of heartache that took him in the moment he heard the words _he didn't make it_.

Becky was tough. She'd survived a lot, so had he. So they thought, in all their stupid wisdom, that their son was just as strong. But they thought wrong; Orion just _wasn't strong enough_. That thought always stuck with him; even as Vanessa was growing up and losing all those things that made her his baby. She was their first child, and he had always hoped she wouldn't be the last, but he never expected the grief that hit him when his wife told him the news.

"It's not too late-"

"No," He called over his shoulder, closing his eyes and running a hand over his face, tangling it in his hair. "I'm not going to live with that decision. I'm not going to sit here and pretend that we can justify killing a child just because of my stupid fears. That's almost as bad as losing one unwillingly."

The pang that hit him then, took his breath away for a moment. The ache in his chest was growing worse and he just wanted to cry. Shouldn't he have been happy? Shouldn't he have been excited for this? His blue eyes welled with tears, his hand folding around the dog tags that hung around his neck, voice trembling. Vanessa had made it out alive, without any complication...but Orion...that grief never really went away.

He sucked in a breath, struggling to find the words to sooth his now worried wife. _Keep her calm, don't go off the deep end...remember she's just as scared as you are…_ he bit his lip and finally stood up to go find her. "Becky," Kneeling down on the tiles, he brought her in for a hug. He could tell she was fighting with her demons as well, finding an excuse to justify murder. "I won't let you do... _that_." Though it wasn't called an 'abortion' in their time, he felt the word fit just fine.

"I don't think I can face it again. I can handle a lot, Jean. I can handle war, I can handle death, I can handle losing you - well, maybe not - but losing a child? I can't sit here and justify the death of a soul that never had the opportunity to breathe. I can't just…" She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder, hiccuping with tears now. "I can't."

"I know, baby." Rubbing her back, he closed his azure eyes and thought hard, about anything positive. Anything to get his mind off that moment. His heart broke every time she took a shuddering breath, and he knew she was thinking of it, too. That moment when they told them their son didn't make it, when she signed the official death certificate with trembling hands, when they buried their only son in a stupid plastic box and nothing else. It must have been terribly lonely. All the informal behavior, and she only recently got to the point where she didn't mention his name in conversation.

He remembered, then, in one long memory that played out like movie clips. He remembered that night, the darkness and the quiet stillness in the air as she broke down in hysterical sobs on the floor. A moment he wouldn't soon forget - but one he didn't want to remember. He closed his eyes, holding her close to his body, trying to find solace in the fact that it was three years ago…

 _"Becky?" He had all but been silent as he wheeled through the house. Somewhere in this maze of halls was his wife, probably working on writing in her journal. The silence was alarming, though, since she usually answered him back when he'd call to her. "Bex?"_

 _She was sitting in the bathroom, her hands in front of her, trembling. He knew. He knew immediately that something had happened. His first thought was that she had tried to commit suicide - but she had been happy that morning. Moving in closer, he slipped to the floor, sitting at her level. "Becky, baby, talk to me…"_

 _How could she? She couldn't even find the voice to cry. Her entire body was trembling, but her voice was gone...lost. There was so much blood. For the first time in months, he was thankful that Vanessa was with his parents for the night. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry." She finally choked out, her voice sounding so tiny, yet so loud in the silence in the room. "I'm so sorry."_

 _"It's not your fault," he whispered against her hair. "You couldn't have done anything to change it...it's not your fault, Becky." He didn't want to leave her alone, but he'd need help getting her to the hospital. He found his way back to his chair, looking to her again for a moment. How long had she been like this? How long had she suffered without telling him? Damn her stupid pride… "I'm going to call my parents...we need to get you to the hospital."_

 _"I'm sorry…" She whispered again, the shock still taking her entire being._

 _What could he say now? His hand trembled as he reached out to brush her hair back, shaking his head. "I know, baby. I know."_

 _He left her there, only for a few moments, his heart racing a million miles an hour. He dialed his father's number, waiting for the voice on the other end. "Hey...umm...this is hard to admit. I need help. If you could come here, please? Something happened to Becky, I have to get her to a hospital. Please…" Though he stayed calm when he asked, he knew his father picked up the underlying tone in his voice. His father gave a quiet 'okay' and told his mother to keep an eye on Vanessa._

 _The next few moments passed in silence. He held her trembling, cold body, trying to keep her together. This would kill her. He knew. He knew that this was going to tear her to pieces and break her heart. Maybe he was selfish; he'd rather lose the child than lose her. He whispered to her, telling her it was okay. He tried to keep her calm, reminding her that Vanessa still needed her. He didn't know what state she would be in later, but he knew that if he didn't speak to her, she'd want to kill herself._

 _His father helped him get her to the car, where she sat in silence with her father in law, watching the road ahead with dead eyes. He'd gathered up some clothes for her, using menial tasks to keep his mind off of the heartache they were facing. He had to keep himself together for her. If he broke now, she'd lose everything. He sat in the back seat, her head resting in his lap. He'd stroke her hair, whisper to her...anything to keep her from thinking about it. There would be plenty of time for regret later, but right now, he had to keep her grounded in the moment with him._

 _They arrived at the hospital in a flurry of activity. Nurses noted the blood and immediately got her to a room in maternity. He almost hated that they did that, putting her in the one place she didn't want to be...it wasn't the best choice, but a necessary evil at the moment. He stayed by her bedside until the nurse confirmed that the baby didn't make it, and hearing her cries of pain almost broke him. But he had to be strong for her, and he'd swallow down that emotion for as long as it took._

 _The surgical procedure that followed was rather quick and painless, he wasn't in the room, he didn't know what it entailed. But after they had her in her room again, she was watching the door, expecting something. "I want to see him." She whispered softly, her voice still so tiny. The nurses tried to talk her out of it, but she wasn't listening. "Let me see my son." She demanded, her voice a little louder and more authoritative this time._

 _He kept his hand resting against her arm, his head lowered to the floor. It was a bad idea, he knew she'd have nightmares for months after this. But it was what she wanted to get closure, he wouldn't talk her out of it. Even if he wanted to, he never could. They rest the child in her_ arms, _but kept the face covered so she couldn't see it. She had been five months along, so there was definitely a face and fingers and toes...it looked like a tiny version of what would have been much bigger if she was full term. There was no mistaking that it was a child._

 _"Hello, little Orion." She whispered softly, cradling the tiny child to her chest. She kept him close, her voice_ low _as if trying not to wake him. She spoke with a maternal softness that she often used to quell the demons in their daughter when she couldn't sleep. "I'm sorry, I should have tried harder to protect you. Mama gets a little carried away sometimes. She forgets how fragile and delicate you are. I want you to know that we loved you...love you. I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance to live, and I'm sorry I was too stubborn to listen to daddy when he told me to take it easy. You would have loved it here...you'd already have a big sister to look out for you. I guess now you'll look out for her."_

 _Jean rested his head against her leg, listening to her talking. It was a small comfort to hear her voice, but her speech broke his heart even worse. That tiny shred of resolve he'd held onto finally snapped. He whimpered pathetically against her leg. She needed this, she needed to get those thoughts out...even if it hurt them to do it. And he was feeling like there was something he needed to say, too, but this was her moment in time, and she needed it more than he did._

 _"Your daddy was excited to meet you. He was always so bouncy and happy when he thought about your sister, but not quite the same way he was with you. See, daddy had his little girl, but he always wanted his little boy…" That was when he finally cut her off, reaching up to gently stroke his son's cheek._

 _"I had all these stupid plans to teach you how to hunt and_ fish, _and work on the car with me. I wanted to teach you how to fight, to respect girls...how to charm the ladies...I just wanted to teach you everything that made me the man I am. I wanted you to know that no matter what, you'd always be loved. I even expected to have to bail you out of trouble. You'd always be safe in our home, you'd always be able to drag your friends back there to get away from trouble. And no matter what you decided, you'd always be loved. And I lost all of that...before I even got to tell you how happy I was to have you." He sighed and looked down again, burying his head against the sheets. "See, I told mama last week that I was_ scared, _because I didn't know how to be a daddy. She kept assuring me I was doing fine with Vanessa, but daddy isn't exactly...whole. He's a bit broken, you see. So I can't do some of the things daddies are expected to do. I worried I'd never be able to, but mama's been working with me so I can. And I had hoped to teach you to play baseball, and play sports, and maybe one day join the military like we did...and now, I'm facing another terrifying reality - outliving my own son."_

 _Becky quietly touched a hand to his hair, tangling her fingers in the mess of disheveled golden locks. Her hand was gentle, though a bit cold. She gave a tiny smile, lacking of_ it's _usual emotion and kindness. Her hand trembled, but she didn't move. "Mama and daddy loved you, Orion. I want you to know that...no matter what happens or where you go, we loved you so much that it physically hurt. You'll be happy, though. You'll have a daddy who will always love you and a big sister to play with where you're going...I'm just sorry you didn't get to meet your sister."_

 _It took a moment for him to realize she was referring to General Hughes and Nina Tucker. The thought was a bit hard to swallow, but she wasn't wrong. He'd have to remember to thank Hughes for looking out for his boy one day. If he knew that man, he ran an entire orphanage in heaven, adopting all the lost kids. The thought made him smile for a moment, as bittersweet as it was. "Goodnight, son. Play with the angels, okay? And keep an eye on us down here, your sister is clumsy she might need your help once in awhile."_

 _Becky reluctantly handed the tiny object back to the nurse, closing her eyes for a moment as she looked down to her husband. "I'm sorry. I should have listened, I should have tried harder. It's my fault."_

 _He said nothing as he reached for her hand, shaking his head. "It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault. God needed his angel back."_

 _"You're really calm for someone who just lost their only_ son. _" Becky whispered, not meaning to sound harsh, but coming off that way anyway._

 _He looked up at her now, his eyes puffy and red from crying. He smiled a little, though broken, and wiped away the tears. "Sorry, I shouldn't be so stubborn. You need to know it hurts me just as much. I just...ca_ n't _cry right now, not when you've gone through so much. So please forgive me if I seem like I don't_ care, _because I do. I always will. I just need you to know that you aren't suffering alone, even if I don't show it as much as you do."_

"Becky," His voice was quiet now, reaching to turn her chin towards him for a kiss. "I'm not mad. And I never will be. I told you once before I was ready for this. And I'm ready for whatever comes - be it good or bad. I'm not going to let you suffer alone. I'm sorry I was scared to show you my weaknesses before, but I won't this time. We're in this together, okay?"

"What if-"

"No," He muttered, voice firm. "No _what if_. No more _but what about_...no...if it happens, we'll suffer together. But it won't happen again. I will do everything in my God-given power to see to it that we don't go through it again." He put his hands on her shoulder, gently pushing her away so he could look into her dark brown eyes. "I promise, I won't let you be alone anymore."

"Tomorrow would have been his birthday…" She whispered, looking down at the floor, her knuckle brushing away her tears. "He would have been three."

"I know. And Nessa would have beaten him senseless at least four times by now...and we'd take him to visit your mom and my parents and he'd have eaten at least a million bugs by this point. And you know he'd need stitches because I'm such a daredevil." He snickered gently, kissing her hair and brushing a hand over her unruly locks. "But weather it's a boy or a girl, I promise I'm not going to care...not like that, anyway. I wouldn't mind another chance at a son...but I'm not going to lose sleep if it's a girl."

"You always did know what to say to make me feel human, didn't you?" She sighed and moved away, brushing a hand over her face quick to get the tears off and smooth out her frizzy hair. "I guess I should get dressed so we can tell your parents."

"I'm okay sitting here with you in a tee shirt a little while longer. I mean, it is a view I never really grow tired of." He smiled a little, trying to cheer her up. "I mean it, Becky. We're in this together."

"I know, Jean, I heard you the first six times." Her smile faltered for a moment, her lip trembling again. "I don't know how to tell Vanessa."

"We'll worry about that another time. Right now, you need to focus on getting dressed. Vanessa's with mom for the day, so we can get you an appointment, get you looked at, see how it's going...and worry about all the other things if they come up. But you can't let that one moment ruin this for you. You told me last night you wanted another baby. Where's that sleepy Becky who was whispering in my ear about how I was going to be a daddy again? The one who wasn't scared of the future?"

"...you heard that…?" She shook her head now, laughing lightly. "Yeah, I wonder where she went. We're going to do this...we're going to be parents again…" She kissed his forehead and smiled. "Thank you, Jean. For reminding me that we survived this once before...both times. And hell, Vanessa turned out pretty okay."

"You mean _perfect_? Yes, she did." He grinned proudly at the mention of their daughter. It was no secret he'd fallen in love with her long before she was ever born, and he'd do anything for that little girl. She was spoiled, and a little bit temperamental, but she was theirs - and every bit the product of both her parents. "God, she's going to be so excited now that she's old enough to understand what's going on."

"How about we...wait until we see the baby before telling her? So we can show her…you know? She might just think I swallowed watermelon seeds or something." She blinked a few times at his reaction, the dumbfound and stupefied look on his face caused her to giggle. "She told me once that pregnant women swallowed watermelon seeds, that it was why they were so big."

"I think we have a lot of explaining to do." He blushed bright crimson before coughing. "Yeah...a _lot_ of explaining…"


	15. Lavender

The rain that poured outside was an indicator of the mood inside the Havoc residence. Vanessa's birthday was coming up in a few short weeks, and Becky had just discovered she was pregnant again. It was a difficult time for the family, he wanted so badly to tell their daughter that she would get her brother or sister like she had always wanted, but he couldn't. Not until they saw, until they knew for a fact that it was a reality.

Becky had gone off to her room to write in her journal, leaving Nessa in the living room with her father. He was reading the paper while Nessa played with her dolls, twirling them around on the floor like they were in some kind of masquerade ball. He peered over the paper, watching the eloquence she held, the way she carried herself in her fluid movements, impressed by her ability to keep time with the song she was humming. Though he didn't show his smile, the pride was written in his sky blue eyes.

It was then that the man noticed his young daughter leaning against his knees, the top of her head sticking up over the paper. "Daddy,"

He leaned in a bit closer, folding the pages so he could see her smiling face. "Yes, Vanessa Mae?"

"Dance with me, Daddy." She held her arms out, palms up, as if asking him to go on the dancefloor with him. "Please?"

How many times had he promised to dance with her mother and never got around to it? He folded the paper up and set it off to the side, leaning on his knees to stare at his daughter. "And what if I say no?"

"I'll cry."

"Of course you will." He sighed and took her hand in his, surprised by her strength when she pulled him out into the middle of the living room. He nudged the coffee table closer to the couch before dropping a needle in a groove and playing an upbeat and swingy jazz song. Taking his daughter's hands, he told her to stand on his feet. "Alright, your lead or mine?"

"Umm…" Nessa paused and tapped her lip. "Hmm. Mine."

" _Yours_ , oh no…" She didn't put her feet on his. Instead, she wiggled her butt and flailed her hands around, an image much like his own when he was a kid. Nessa danced like he did, before Becky taught him how to do it _right_. "You have some, uh...unique moves there, Vanessa. Can I show you some of mine?"

Nessa reluctantly stopped, her hands still twitching at her sides, moving in time with the music. He swept her up into his arms with a lighthearted chuckle, holding her balanced precariously on his hip. He tangled one hand with her tiny one, swaying and moving with the music. She laughed at his actions, but hummed to the song. "You're a good dancer, daddy."

"I learned from mama. See, a long time ago, she used to go to these really formal parties, and she'd drag me with her. And to save her from dancing with strangers, she'd dance with me." He kissed his daughter's nose and smiled. "Though I don't dance with mama much these days."

"Does mama not like dancing anymore?"

"No," Becky smiled and watched them, her hip leaning against the door, her arms across her chest. "It's just that mama and daddy are so busy anymore, they forget sometimes why they fell in love."

Nessa's little blue eyes widened in fascination as she turned to her father. "How did you and mama fall in love?"

Becky grinned at the expression on his face. "Yeah, Jean, how did we fall in love?"

"It was, umm...well, see, mama and I…" He sighed and closed his eyes a moment, pausing to look at his wife with a look of pure betrayal. "Mama and I were in the military together, I'm sure you remember. After my accident, I was forced to leave, and mama was sent to help me recover from it. Mama and I met a lot of times before then, even shared some nights together when we had sleepovers. But I didn't really fall for her until I literally _fell_ for her. She walked into the room I was in for therapy and I saw her, and I fell on my feet trying not to watch her."

"He had an impressive bruise on his jaw for the longest time after that," Becky snickered and moved over to look at him. "He told everyone he got it in a bar fight defending my honor."

He nodded. "Except I couldn't walk, so no one believed me. It was still worth a shot. I found out later that week just how much I loved the smell of gunpowder and lavender, but that's a story for adults." He chuckled and ruffled his daughter's hair. "I bet mama's story for how we fell in love is very different than mine."

Becky merely grinned, moving passed them to sit on the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table. "You bet your sweet butt it is."

"This ought to be interesting." Shifting Nessa to his other arm, he looked to his wife. "Alright, now you have _me_ curious. When did you fall in love with me?"


End file.
